


My Eyes Adored You

by doctovstrange



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Heartache, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 03:49:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18930673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctovstrange/pseuds/doctovstrange
Summary: 'Everyone knew that Steve loved Bucky, but no one knew that it was Bucky that was in love with Steve.Brothers in arms, destined to never be together.'what will happen when Sam and Bucky are left to pick up the pieces of their lives when Steve leaves them behind?





	My Eyes Adored You

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first sambucky fic so I apologise if it's awful. I haven't written anything like this in about nine months (because uni) so I am a bit rusty. Hope you enjoy it anyway, and let me know if you want me to write more x

Bucky was alone again.

 

This time hurt more though. No ice this time to numb the pain.

 

Here he stood, minutes after Tony’s service had ended, and he was in more pain than he had been the entire time Hydra had used him. He didn’t even get to tell Tony that he was sorry, and that he knew he could never make it up to him, but that he would _try_. Sam always said that it was better to try than to hide.

 

Bucky watched as Steve and Bruce talked, the green professor talking animatedly and Steve looking as though he was pretending to listen, when in fact he probably had no idea what Bruce was saying to him.

 

The thought _almost_ made him smile.

 

Everyone knew that Steve loved Bucky, but no one knew that it was Bucky that was in love with Steve.

 

Brothers in arms, destined to never be together.

 

By the time it came to saying goodbye, Bucky thought himself pretty good at being able to read Steve’s mind. Even if his best friend hadn’t talked to him about what he was about to do, he knew anyway. He always knew when it came to Steve.

 

In fact, Bucky knew that when Steve went to put the stones back, he wouldn’t be coming back. He was the only one that knew.

 

“For us, it’ll be five seconds. For him, as long as he needs,”

 

 _He’s not coming back!_ Bucky wanted to scream. _He’s leaving forever. He’s leaving_ me _._

He didn’t have the heart to tell them. Especially not Sam. He knew how much Sam loved Steve, perhaps in the same way that _he_ loved Steve, and it wouldn’t be fair to him to make him feel the same.

 

Over the past few years, the two of them had formed bond far stronger than anyone would have given them credit for.

 

It had all started when they were on the run together for the three months before Wakanda. Steve would regularly leave them alone, going out to get supplies and coming up with a realistic plan that would mean they were all safe, which meant that Sam and Bucky became relatively close. Not that Steve knew.

 

With so much time to themselves, Sam saw it as the perfect opportunity to help the one hundred-year-old become acquainted properly with the twenty-first century.

 

Of course, when Sam had first turned up at Bucky’s bedroom door, arms full of snacks that Bucky had never seen before, and a laptop, demanding that they spend the next few weeks watching as many ‘cult classic’ films as they could, the former Winter Soldier had been confused.

 

“What does cult classic even mean?” he’d asked, opening the door slightly wider so that Sam could fit himself through.

 

Sam had chuckled to himself, dumping all his snacks onto Bucky’s bed.

 

“Let me show you,”

 

Bucky had rolled his eyes but joined Sam on his bed anyway.

 

Three _Jurassic Park_ movies and a, “please tell me no one is planning on _actually_ bringing dinosaurs back,” later, and Sam had had successfully succeeded in getting Bucky to say more than two words to him.

 

If he had to be honest, Sam hadn’t always been paying attention to the screen, too interested in staring at Bucky and seeing his reaction. The sounds of guns, Sam noticed, made Bucky’s body freeze, and he tried not to notice the way Bucky moved himself closer to Sam on the bed every time something happened that he didn’t like. Whenever there was a new-born dinosaur on-screen, Bucky would lean himself forward, his knees pulled up and his eyes wide in awe.

 

Sam couldn’t help but stare at him.

 

The pale skin. The long and dark hair covering Bucky’s face almost like a curtain. The way his face, one that had been so stoic and cold in the months Sam had known him, would light up when he found something funny, and how he would turn to Sam to see him staring back and his eyes would crinkle.

 

Why wouldn’t he stare?

 

That had been the start of something, after all.

 

Every day, whether Steve was there or not, Sam would introduce Bucky to a new movie.

 

 _The Martian_ (“hey, that guy looks _just_ like me,”), _Back to the Future_ (“is it actually possible to go back in time?”) _Pulp Fiction_ (“wow,”).

 

Bucky would spend hours after the films ended asking Sam questions. If it was anyone else, it probably would have annoyed Sam, but Bucky had this inquisitive look in his eye and a smile on his lips that made Sam listen.

 

Then Wakanda opened its door to them, and Bucky, still with only one arm, had decided that he wanted to go under again, just until he was safe.

 

Steve had tried begging and pleading with him, something that hurt Sam to see, but it was clear that Bucky had made up his mind. He’d lived without freedom, without autonomy for seventy years. If this was something that Bucky Barnes wanted to do, then Sam would support him.

 

“I’ve already hurt too many people,” Bucky had said to Sam, his eyes pleading for him to understand, “and hey,” he said, a small smile crossing his face, “it’s not forever, right,”

 

Sam had smiled, placing a hand on Bucky’s good shoulder and squeezing gently, “Steve’s just mad that he has to lose you again after we spent so much time searching for your ass,”

 

That made Bucky smile, sincerely for once. Too long Sam had seen him smile at something either he or Steve said just because he felt like he had to.

 

 “That’s what Bucky would do,” he’d told Sam once when he’d asked him about it.

 

Sam had been silent for a moment, before asking, “but what would _you_ do?”

 

“He’s not losing me,” he had said, “I’ll be back before he even realises that I’m gone,” Bucky turned his head away from Sam, clearly trying to convince himself that this was the best thing for _him_ and not for anyone else.

 

Sam’s smile had turned sad, his hand falling away from Bucky’s shoulder. When Bucky had turned back towards him, there was a new look in his eyes. A look that Sam knew all too well. He’d had the same thing with Riley, before Riley… well, you know.

 

“Don’t miss me too much, birdman,” Bucky had said, trying to lighten to the mood.

 

It was at that moment that Steve came back to the room, and Sam gave them a moment to say goodbye. Going by the hug Steve wrapped Bucky in, one where Bucky looked like he was struggling to breathe if his eyes widening were anything to go by, Sam had guessed that Steve had thought about what his friend had been through, finally letting him get the peace he needed to recover.

 

When Bucky was safely inside his chamber, Sam had joined Steve, and the two watched as the former Winter Soldier went under… hopefully, for the last time.

 

When it was over, Sam had hugged Steve tightly, “you know this is what’s best for him,” he had said.

 

So why did he feel a constant dull ache in his body until the day Steve told him that Bucky had been woken up?

 

Steve didn’t even tell him straight away. When Sam first saw Bucky, his long hair tied up in a bun, and tending to the goats in his garden, Shuri had just informed him that Bucky had actually been awake for three weeks, and that Steve had been to visit his friend regularly.

 

Without Sam.

 

He had tried not to let that bother him. Why would he get so worked up about seeing _Steve’s_ friend, anyway?

 

“Who knew Bucky Barnes could represent domesticity so well,” he had joked, a bright smile on his face. The way Bucky’s shoulders had stiffened briefly, before he had turned around and made eye contact with Sam made his heart hurt, but the pure look of joy on the man’s face more than made up for it.

 

They had hugged, albeit briefly, a small blush crossing Bucky’s cheekbones when they’d pulled away from each other.

 

Sam had decided then and there that he wanted to make Bucky blush as much as he could.

 

But, he stored _that_ thought away for later. Along with the thought about how _good_ Bucky looked now that he was happy, and healthy and had managed to wash that greasy hair of his properly.

 

Those small moments seemed like they happened a life time ago.

 

And now, here they were, standing together, watching as Steve said his goodbyes to everyone.

 

Bucky thought that he would be able to stand this, be able to watch as Steve lied to everyone’s faces, but it was tougher when he watched it happen to himself too.

 

Steve turned towards Bucky, a grim look, that only Bucky recognised, in his eyes.

 

“Don’t do anything stupid til I get back,” Steve said, forcing a smile onto his face. Bucky could feel his heart breaking in his chest, the man he loved was leaving him and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

“How can I?” he retorted, calling back to a night over seventy years ago, much like this one, “you’re taking all the stupid with you,”

 

He tried to smile. He really did. But he couldn’t.

 

They hugged. Three seconds. Bucky counted. Was three seconds all he was worth?

 

He looked at Sam, just for a moment, the other man’s head hanging slightly at the exchange. _At least he wasn’t the only one hurting_ he thought to himself briefly. He didn’t want Sam to feel any kind of pain, but this was something that even he couldn’t help in taking away.

 

“I’m gonna miss you, buddy,” he said, tears in the corners of his eyes. Surely Steve knew now.

 

“It’s going to be okay, Buck,”

 

 _How do you know that?_ Bucky wanted to ask. _Steve_ was the one leaving _him_. A man out of time, the only person that grounded him leaving him behind.

 

How did nobody notice that this was a _goodbye?_

 

Bucky stepped back, hands immediately going back into the pockets of his bomber jacket. He would have dressed smarter, if he had known that he was actually going to be at Stark’s wake, but Sam only gave him five minutes to dress after appearing at his door that afternoon.

 

“You’re coming with me,” he had said, his voice challenging Bucky to argue with him.

 

Bucky knew better than that.

 

And then, he watched as Steve disappeared, his heart feeling like it was going with him.

 

He watched with dread as Bruce tried, and failed, to get Steve back. And yet, he still didn’t speak a word. Not to Sam. Not to anyone.

 

And then Sam noticed Steve, sitting alone on a bench. He was still in the dark about what Steve was about to do, but Bucky knew. And he couldn’t be happier for him.

 

Everyone knew that Sam deserved the shield. Hell, Sam represented everything that the shield stood for, perhaps even better than Steve had.

 

When Sam looked over at him in disbelief, the shield gripped tightly in his hand, Bucky smiled back at him, the first proper smile he’d managed since before the battle in Wakanda. His chest gave an involuntary lurch.

 

Bucky, having just seen the love of his life purposely leave him behind, didn’t know what that meant. He hoped he’d never find out.

 

Steve told them that he hadn’t wanted to cause a scene by telling them he wasn’t coming back. He had to do what he did because it was what _he_ wanted. Bucky knew, deep down, that he was right.

 

Sam and Bucky took Steve home, because apparently old people need to be home by five o’clock these days.

 

Afterwards, they walked together, Sam still gripping the shield tightly, a smile plastered all over his face. They didn’t know where they were going, or what they were going to do without Steve, they just let their feet take them there.

 

“I just can’t believe it,” Sam said, over and over, “why would Steve give this to me?”

 

Bucky stopped, gripping Sam’s wrist tightly with his right hand, “you deserve your happy ending too, Sam. Steve knew that,” he smiled sincerely at his friend, hoping that Sam would be able to read how happy he was for him in his face.

 

Sam placed his hand over Bucky’s, the tears in his eyes telling Bucky everything he needed to know about how Sam was feeling, the sap.

 

“I hate you,” the Captain said.

 

Bucky snorted, his eyebrows raising towards his hairline, “I hate you, too, birdman,”

 

They stayed like that. Holding each other. For seconds. Minutes. Hours. Bucky didn’t know.

 

And then Sam coughed, taking the moment with it.

 

Bucky blinked, wanting to grip at what they had and bring it back. He started to walk, his hands back in his pockets again so that no one could see his arm.

 

From behind him, he heard, “So, fancy some coffee?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! I don't know when I'll get another chapter up but hopefully it'll be soon


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